Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

by Susan Mallery

  The unexpected words, so kindly spoken, undid her. She’d been prepared for flip or casual conversation—not for a man who could see all the way down to her soul.

  He’d guessed the truth about her, about why she was the way she was. She had to win at nearly any cost, all without letting anyone in. Because people who were supposed to love you betrayed you over and over again.

  She started to speak and realized she couldn’t. Worse, tears burned in her eyes.

  Horrified, she dropped her fork and started to stand. Before she’d made it all the way to her feet, Sven was at her side, pulling her close. He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tight. At the same time he kissed her.

  He tasted of blueberries and maple syrup. Their tongues met in a dance of hunger and need. In seconds she was wet and ready.

  Even as he lifted her onto the counter and drew off her panties, a part of her brain pointed out that escape was only temporary. Eventually she was going to have to face what she was feeling. Then he drew off the T-shirt and cupped her breasts. As he entered her she was able to pretend once again that absolutely nothing was wrong.

  13

  “You’re happy,” Griffith said as Sven whistled softly.

  “I’m a happy man.”

  Griffith knew his friend to be even-tempered but he rarely whistled. “You’re freaking me out a little.”

  Sven grinned. “Then I’ll stop.”

  They were in Griffith’s office, going over different garden designs for the most popular tiny homes. Griffith had decided to offer mat gardens as an option and needed pictures for his website along with a few posters for the showroom. He and Sven had taken pictures and were now choosing the best ones.

  “I heard from my cousin Lars,” Sven said. “He’ll have the custom pieces to you by the end of the month.”

  “I look forward to seeing how they work.”

  Lars was a carpenter who had designed several multipurpose pieces for the tiny homes. Chairs that folded down into beds or staircases with hidden storage. They were well-made from reclaimed wood. Not cheap, but there was a market for them.

  “I’m going to ask him to donate something to the auction,” Sven added.

  Griffith chuckled. “Trying to impress the new girl?”

  Sven winked. “You know it. She’s very different from her sister.”

  “I’ll take your word on that.” Griffith couldn’t imagine anyone being more interested in Olivia than Kelly, but that was just him. “Kelly’s more my style.”

  “She likes you.” Sven flipped to another picture. “You’re one of the reasons I broke up with her.”

  Griffith stared at his friend. “Me?”

  “I saw how she looked at you when she thought no one was watching. She never looked at me like that.”

  Griffith didn’t know what to say. Shouting with delight and pumping his fist seemed to be in bad taste. “I, ah—”

  “I know you didn’t do anything while we were together. I’m glad you’re dating her.” He hesitated. “We were never meant to last as long as we did. There wasn’t enough chemistry. Kelly’s very quiet and I’m not.”

  In bed.

  The words weren’t said aloud, but they hung there all the same. Holy shit. They were guys. They didn’t talk about that kind of stuff. Not without being drunk first. No one wanted to know what his buddy was like in bed. Gross. How was he supposed to get “not quiet” out of his head?

  “I think this picture,” Sven said, tapping one of them. “And the other one.”

  “I agree. I’ll get them printed up. You want me to send you the pdf file?”

  “Thanks. It’ll give me content for my web person.”

  Sven left and Griffith collected the rest of the pictures. He was still stuck on the quiet in bed remark. What did that mean? That she wasn’t a screamer? He was okay with that. Not everyone had to tell the world everything what was happening. Or was it more than that?

  Before he could decide, Leo knocked on his open door. One look at his foreman’s face told him there was trouble.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked, motioning to the chair by his desk.

  “We have two late deliveries this week. I’ve already talked to the suppliers. They have good excuses, but I’d rather have the material. I want to look for other vendors.”

  Griffith nodded without speaking. He’d worked with Leo long enough to know that when bad news was delivered, his foreman started with the easy stuff first, which meant there was more coming.

  “We’re behind on one of the homes we’re building,” Leo continued. “If I put on an extra shift, we’ll be close, but I’m not sure we can meet our deadline even then.”

  Griffith felt his jaw tighten as frustration swept through him. Dammit all to hell.

  “Which house?”

  “Two twenty-seven.”

  Griffith had considered a number of ways to keep track of the homes he built and had settled on the simplest of systems. Year two, house twenty-seven. The house Ryan worked on.

  “It’s my brother, isn’t it?”

  Leo glanced at the papers in front of him. “He’s a good guy. Everyone likes him.”

  “Sure. He’s always willing to talk or take an extra ten minutes at break, turn lunch into an hour and a half. The other guys see he gets away with it, so they start doing it, too. You can’t just discipline Ryan, so the whole project goes to hell.”

  Leo didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  Maybe giving Ryan a job had been a mistake. Maybe what his brother needed instead was a kick in the ass.

  “I’ll talk to him,” Griffith said. “His free ride is over. From now on, you treat everyone the same, Leo. Ryan doesn’t get special treatment. If he’s not back from his break or lunch on time, dock his pay. If he mouths off, give him a warning. If that doesn’t help, suspend him.”

  “You sure, boss?”

  “Yes. I should have done this a long time ago. I’m sorry I put you in a difficult situation.”

  Leo relaxed. “No problem. I’ll tell the guys that I’m going to be on them and we’ll take it from there.”

  “Thanks.”

  They both rose. Griffith went in search of his brother. He found the entire crew standing around, laughing. When they saw him, they all scurried back to work—all except Ryan who stretched and walked toward him.

  “Hey, Griffith. What’s up?”

  “We have to talk.”

  His brother rolled his eyes. “You sound like a woman, bro. What’s up with that?”

  Griffith stepped into the utility closet where they kept cleaning supplies, a couple of buckets on wheels and several brooms. Ryan stopped in the doorway and raised his eyebrows.

  “What’s up?”

  “You need to do your job,” Griffith said bluntly.

  “Jesus. I put in my eight hours. What more do you want?”

  “You put in about four. You’re paid for eight. Two twenty-seven is behind and you’re the reason. You’ve been getting away with goofing off because you’re my brother and that’s going to stop. You’ll show up on time, work your full shift or your pay will be docked. If you’re going to work part-time hours, you’ll get a part-time paycheck.”

  Ryan folded his arms across his chest. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

  Griffith took a step toward him. “I realize what happens here isn’t important to you, but it is to me and the people who bought the house. They’re waiting for it. Every day they wonder how construction is going and they’re telling their friends and family about it. I’m not calling them to say it’s going to be late because my lazy-assed brother can’t bother to show up. I have a business to run, bro.” He emphasized the last word. “Either participate or quit. Am I clear?”
<
br />   “You’re a dick.”

  “That may be but I’m also your boss. I mean it, Ryan. I gave you this job to help you out. If you don’t want it anymore, you know where to find the door.”

  “Go to hell.”

  Ryan turned and walked away. Griffith had no idea if his brother had just quit or not. He figured they would all know in the morning. If he had to bet, he would put money on Ryan showing up. His younger brother needed the money and Ryan wasn’t one to do without.

  * * *

  Helen sat at the piano, but instead of playing, she turned to look at the living room. Everything was in its place—the surfaces were all clean. She liked her house—it was convenient and suited her purposes. So why did she feel so restless?

  She got up and went to the kitchen and got a glass of water, then returned to the living room, but didn’t sit down. For some reason sitting down felt like giving up, and wasn’t that the weirdest thing?

  She had to snap out of this, she told herself. While the café wasn’t her dream job, she enjoyed working there. She had security and modest financial freedom. Shouldn’t she be doing something with that? Planning a trip? Falling in love? Taking a two-week road trip to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame?

  She heard a knock on the front door a second before it opened and Jeff stepped inside.

  “It’s me,” he called, then smiled when he saw her. “Ready to tackle Miley?”

  “Hi. Sure. Let’s have at it.”

  He came to a stop and studied her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “There’s something. I can see it in your eyes.”

  Seriously? He could see that she was upset but hadn’t once noticed her almost throwing herself at him? Was the man dense or simply giving her his answer in a very gentle way?

  “I’m restless,” she admitted. “About my life and what I do.” She held up a hand. “It’s not any one thing and I can’t explain it more than that. When I pick things apart, they’re all fine. I do like the café. I enjoy my employees and the customers. There’s a sameness, but that comes with every job. Routine is part of getting things done. I’m just...”

  She drew in a breath. “I hate the master bathroom.”

  “I know a good contractor. You could get it redone. What else?”

  “Nothing.” Nothing because she was a coward who couldn’t say what she was thinking about the man she was in love with. “I think that’s pretty much all my whining. We should work on our song. Did you finish with the arrangement?”

  He set sheet music in front of her. “I did. It’s a really good song.”

  She glanced at him. “And the video?”

  He sighed. “What is it about young women today? They don’t get it. Naked out of context is just naked. Miley’s far more sexy in the T-shirt and boots, but then I’m just some old guy. What do I know?”

  Helen felt the restlessness fading as humor took its place. “And the sledgehammer?”

  Jeff grimaced. “That was weird. Why lick it?” He held up his hand. “I get the symbolism, but come on.”

  “Your parents said the same thing about your music. New music is one of the ways the generations separate from each other. It’s part of the growing process.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “I’m not. I read it somewhere.”

  “Always the smart one.” He settled next to her on the bench. “All right, Helen. Let’s see what we can do there.”

  She began to play the opening chords of the song. Jeff’s shoulder brushed against hers and when he started singing, she felt the vibration of his voice all the way down to her toes.

  The problem wasn’t her master bath or restlessness in her life. The problem was her. What was that old saying? It was time to put up or shut up. She was tired of wishing. Action was required and then she would know. If the results were a disaster, then she would take that road trip to Cleveland and along the way, she could figure out what was next.

  * * *

  Kelly rested her head, shoulders and arms on the counter of the café. “I’m a horrible person,” she said, realizing that confessing all hadn’t made her feel the least bit better. Usually telling Helen what was wrong had a cleansing effect, but not today. Maybe her sin was too great.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Kelly continued. “That I was only eighteen and it was my dad’s decision to make, which is true only he wouldn’t have thought of sending Olivia away if I hadn’t mentioned it. I’d even researched schools. I practically shoved her out the door. I’m a terrible sister and a worse person. You’re not going to want to be my friend anymore.”

  “Dramatic much?”

  Kelly raised her head. “You’re turning on me in my hour of pain?”

  “Yes. Get over yourself. You’re feeling guilty but Olivia’s the one who was sent away. She’s the one who had to start over somewhere that wasn’t her home. You got to keep doing your thing here, only now you just had to worry about yourself.”

  Kelly sat up. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry to be blunt, but the facts are pretty much the facts. Let me be clear—I don’t judge you for what you did. You’re doing a great job of that all yourself. You’re my friend and I love you. If you really want to make this better, you have to admit what you did and ask for forgiveness. Wallowing isn’t going to make it go away.”

  Harsh words that were, unfortunately, very true. Kelly had been wallowing for the past few days and she still felt like crap. Sometimes she was able to convince herself that it wasn’t her fault. That she’d just been the sister, making suggestions. The decision had been Jeff’s, and Olivia had been the one going at it with Ryan like they were rabbits. Pregnancy had just been one slip-up away. And then what?

  But the rest of the time, she knew that she’d been far less than innocent. That she’d been terrified of what her sister might do and how that doing would impact Kelly’s life. She hadn’t been willing to take the risk and because of that fear, Olivia had been sent away.

  She and Helen were alone in the café. It was nearly two thirty. All the customers and staff had left. Kelly had come seeking solace. Instead she was getting a well-deserved kick in the butt.

  “Olivia’s been in touch with our mother,” Kelly said. “You’d think I would be jealous and want to know things, but I don’t. I’m glad she’s gone and I don’t ever want to see her again.”

  “Based on what you’ve told me about her, I’m not surprised. Are you sorry Olivia came back?”

  Kelly considered the question. “No,” she admitted. “I like her way more than I would have guessed.”

  “So that’s good.”

  Kelly looked at her friend. “Do you still love me?” she asked in a small voice.

  “Yes. Double yes. You’re my best friend, Kelly. I think you’re amazing, but we all have flaws. You obviously think you screwed up with Olivia. She’s mad, you’re upset and the only way to fix it is to fix it. Talk to her. Tell her you’re sorry and see if the two of you can start over.”

  “You’re so rational.”

  “It’s easy to see what’s wrong with other people. It’s correcting our own lives that’s hard.”

  Kelly straightened. She didn’t like what Helen had said, but she recognized the truth and wisdom of it.

  “I have to talk to her,” she whispered. “I have to suck it up and apologize and take whatever happens.” She stretched her arms toward her friend. “Come with me and hold my hand.”

  Helen laughed. “You have to do this all on your own. Otherwise it won’t count.”

  “There are so many rules.” Kelly stood. “Okay, I’m going to do it. I’m strong and brave and she’s my sister. It’s all going to be fine.” She paused. “I’m so lying.”

  “Yes, but you look good doing it.”<
br />
  Helen hugged her. Kelly thanked her for her advice, then got in her truck and drove the short distance to the house. With luck Olivia wouldn’t be home and she could—

  Kelly turned the corner and saw her sister’s BMW parked in the driveway. So much for a reprieve. She parked next to the car and gripped her keys in her hand.

  She found her sister standing in the middle of the living room. The furniture had all been rearranged. Several pieces had been brought in from other rooms. Olivia adjusted an end table, then straightened.

  “What do you think?”

  Kelly’s first instinct was to protest. How dare Olivia change how the room had always been? Then she took a second and saw that the flow was better and the conversation area had gotten bigger, even though there were the same number of seats. Now you could talk to anyone without have to twist your head into an uncomfortable position.

  “It’s so much better,” she admitted. “How did you know what to do?”

  “I do staging. It’s a thing.”

  “A good thing.”

  Kelly dropped her bag onto an end table, then put her hands on the back of a wing chair. She looked at her sister and told herself to just say it. She owed Olivia that.

  “I’m sorry,” she began. “I’m sorry for what happened and my part in it. I’m sorry I was uncomfortable with you and Ryan having sex. Not that I cared about the sex, it was that I thought you were going to get pregnant and it was just a matter of when. I shouldn’t have assumed you would or that I would get stuck, and I’m sorry I worried that you were just like Mom, and I’m even more sorry I thought about myself more than you. I shouldn’t have gone to Dad and suggested he send you to boarding school. I don’t think he would have thought of it himself. It’s all my fault and I was wrong.”

  Olivia stared at her for a long time. Kelly had no idea what she was thinking.

  “Did you really think I was going to be like Mom?” Olivia asked.

  Kelly hesitated before nodding. “You two were so close. You had so much in common. You were both beautiful and outgoing and nothing like Dad and me. When you started dating Ryan, it was like watching her all over again. I was so scared.”